


Softly to sleep

by AussieTransfan2015



Series: Requests [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Slow Sex, Slow loving, Touching, relax sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AussieTransfan2015/pseuds/AussieTransfan2015
Summary: Ratchet had a hard day. A REALLY hard day.Drift had a hard day. A really HARD day.Both find comfort, both find calm, and both find release.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was requested by the always beautiful, forever funny and smart Queen bee from @more-than-meets-the-canon  
> We all need some Dratchet love! And its because of the great Queen Bee that I'm hooked!!  
> Enjoy it!!

Drift/Ratchet

 

* * *

 

Ratchet couldn’t stop himself from yawning.

The entire cycle was nothing but cleaning up after Rodimus’ stunts, organising and reorganising the entire medbay to Ultra Magnus’ specifications, attending to Swerve’s mass failed drink concoction and having to tend to almost half the crew from a contaminated batch. With only First Aid and Velocity to help, the cycle couldn’t have gone slower. Growling, rubbing his aching optics and stressed servos, he managed to punch in the code to his hub suite, and lock it for a long uninterrupted recharge.

“Welcome back,” the soft coo was enough to relieve most of his tension, turning to the currently occupied berth. Drift, nursing his own stresses and strains, laid splayed out on the cushioned surface, arms out in welcoming the aged medic. Sighing, shaking his helm, Ratchet smiled as he approached. Emptying his subspace, he slid into place and wrapped his arms around the third-in-command.

“Frag this cycle was a nightmare,” Ratchet moaned, grinding into Drift’s shoulder and neck cabling. Inhaling the swordsmech’s strange yet unique scent, Ratchet could feel every tense cable and wiring deep in his plating sag and loosen.

“At least you weren’t apart of Rodimus’ latest adventure,” Drift cooed, nuzzling Ratchet’s cheek plating, placing small kissed along his chevron and helm.

“Little fragger,” he groaned, pulling Drift impossibly closer.

“Do you need a little pick-me-up?” Drift purred, shifting around to loom over the older medic. Ratchet, however, could tell from his minute shakes and straining engine that Drift wasn’t letting on how tired he was. Shifting him back, smirking as Drift let his face slip, sighing into the soft berth.

“You’re as tired as me, and as much as I would _love_ to fill you all up all nice and full,” purring, Ratchet forward his point with his fingers dancing and teasing sensitive cables along Drift’s pelvis and hip plating, pulling sweet and hitch moans from his partner. “I don’t think these joints will hold up, and I’d rather not have an embarrassing exchange just to get an overload.” Lying back down, his engine sagging and rolling into a quiet purr, he opened an optic to watch Drift shift and noticing the idea practically flashing across his optics.

“Well…we don’t have to, and I think an overload will help us both,” purring, Drift pulled Ratchet back onto his side and sliding his frame closer than close.

“Horny youth,” Ratchet purred, grabbing Drift’s helm and sealing them in a deep kiss. Glossas danced between plumping lips while Drift hips ground hard into Ratchet’s plating. “So eager,” he cooed between breaths, returning his attempts to stimulate their systems. He could feel his internal temperature rising. Slower than Drift obviously wanted it to be but a nice pace for the aged medic to enjoy. And he wouldn’t lie, watching and feeling Drift become a shivering mess in his arms was a delicious sight.

“Coming from the old bot who’s already shifting his plating,” Drift purred, smirking as his own plating shifted. Ratchet gasped, looking down to see their erect cables grinding and sliding against one another. Feeling touches against his sensitive servos, Ratchet turned to watch Drift move on servo to his lips. A bright blush crossed the medic’s faceplates as lips and denta kiss, pecked and grazed the over-sensitive plating and joints.

“Drift~” he cooed, his frame visible shaking from the alternating soft and hard touches.

“Like that?” Drift purred, pressing his lips as the words rolled off his glossa, watching Ratchet bit down on his lips and suppress a moan. “How about…?” he didn’t finish his thought on purpose, drawing two of Ratchet’s fingers into his mouth. The resulting intake, the soft and wet texture of his glossa, the flexing and constricting cavern; Ratchet cringed. Gasping and contorting his frame closer to Drift. The feedback from his servos shot through him with the intensity of an overload without the waning satisfaction. It left his frame within a constant high, twitching and whining the more Drift lathered and sucked his digits. Making matters worse, his resulting constriction and twitching rubbed and ground harder into Drift’s cable. The two erect spikes swelled harder, leaving them both panting.

“Not…f-f-fair…” Ratchet growled, cracking an optic and watch the sly smirk twisting and teasing his fingers. “T-two can…play this…g-game…” Ratchet raised his other servo, leaving Drift’s back and trail up. His movements left the samurai bot confused before his second set of sensor-rich servos brushed against Drift’s hyper-sensitive helm fins. Instantly the area around the tip grew a bright pink.

“ _Ga-HU~!_ ” Drift choked a gasp, releasing Ratchet’s fingers and burying himself in the medic’s chestplates. Now Ratchet’s smirk grew, fingering the fin tip between his fingers, alternating his index and thumb, middle and index and all three. “Ra-Ratchet! Nghaa~ N-No…no you know that…that… _mmmmh_ ~” Drift ground harder, his frame heating up and twitching out of his control. His legs drew up, wrapping them around Ratchet’s.

“Adorable,” leaning in, kissing the flustered mech’s cheeks. “But we don’t have all night. We’re both tired and now we’re all revved and bothered, ready?” Drift whimpered, knowing as much as he wanted to prolong the ordeal just to watch Ratchet come undone, the constant assault on the most sensitive plating on his whole frame, the nagging and dragging build twisting in his tanks needing release.

Ratchet kissed his lover’s forehelm. Holding the loving touch while his now freed servo slip low between them. Drift hiccupped and Ratchet groaned, feeling his fingers pull the two cables together, igniting their charged sensors and receiving the feedback through his hands. Starting a brisk pace, Ratchet pumped their spikes, pulling Drift to grind with him to heighten their sensitivity and pull their end closer.

“R-ra…Ah! Ratchet~!” Drift moaned, grinding harder and losing rhythm with his partner.

“E-easy, not l…long now,” Ratchet growled, gritting his denta as his own thrusts became stronger. “Close…C-close…”

Engines roared louder and louder, fans struggling to keep their frames from overheating as the twisting knot grew and grew. Until finally…

Drift choked a sob, snapping stiff as his relays spiralled out and his joints locked. Ratchet grunted, pulling Drift closer while he tried to keep his servo from squeezing their spikes off. Spurt after spurt of transfluid sprayed from them, splattering their compact frames and drenching their thighs and struts with valve lubricant.

“Oh…Ratchet…t-that was…” Drift recovered faster than Ratchet, looking up to find the medic practically unconscious, controlling his cycles and going limp. Smiling, not judging nor commenting, Drift managed to wriggle around his grip, reach over to a cleaning cloth near the berth and quickly wiped their fluids. Recharging covered in transfluids and valve fluids was very uncomfortable for Ratchet, he didn’t mind but Ratchet pushed through his own fatigue to share in this moment.

Once cleaned, Drift snuggled back into the arms of the sleeping medic. He purred as those same arms wrapped back around him, pulling him as close as possible. Drift stole a small kiss before falling into recharge himself, arms wrapping under Ratchet’s arms and snuggling close, helm cradled against his chest plates and relaxing to the beat of his spark beats.

“Horny glitch…”

“Grumpy perv…”


End file.
